


Hard Candy Christmas

by samwhambam



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Christmas fic, M/M, Patrick suffers from seasonal affective disorder, dolly parton references, it was a matter of time before i flat out wrote a fic about a dolly parton song, my two worlds collided with this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:15:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21715177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samwhambam/pseuds/samwhambam
Summary: David helps Patrick reconnect to a a favorite Christmas song.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 30
Kudos: 139





	Hard Candy Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to Aileen and RQ for being lovely betas. You both made this fic so much better.
> 
> Hi friends! SAD (seasonal affective disorder) is real and affects a lot of people. If you think you suffer from it, I highly recommend you research it and learn about symptoms and what you can do to help yourself. I'm not an eloquent person, so I wish this all was said better! lol but feel free to reach to me if you need someone to talk to!

Patrick stared at the menu above the coffee bar and considered his options with a critical eye. He could get his usual black tea, but maybe he should try something festive, something different. Something that fit the bill of a drink someone would order on December 1st. Maybe a peppermint mocha? When he got to the counter, he ordered it, determined to try something outside of his comfort zone. Which is what he wanted. This new Patrick tried new things, like a new cafe and new drinks that he never would’ve ordered before. This Patrick was newly single and he planned on keeping it that way, even if there was an engagement ring in a box on his dresser in Rachel’s size. 

She didn’t know about it, didn’t have that expectation, so Patrick tried to forget about it. 

When they called his name out, he moved automatically, gripping the drink in his cold fingers. With his other hand, he pulled his toque down and braced for the winter chill. He held the door open for a family and nodded at their thanks. As he closed the door, he noticed a flyer for an open mic night and promptly went back inside. 

It had been years since he performed in front of a crowd, but this was the new Patrick Brewer. He did things that would make him happy. He asked the barista for a copy of the flyer and she pointed at the long, skinny table along the front window. It was littered with small, brightly colored scraps of paper and he picked up multiple, taking anything that sounded like something he might remotely enjoy. 

He put them all on the passenger seat of his car and his skin buzzed with anticipation on the drive home, excited to pull something together for the performance. The excitement didn’t last long. It evaporated quickly once he noticed the string of nonsense texts from Rachel and he was alone in his apartment. He hadn’t started decorating for Christmas and he knew that if it was just up to him, that he wouldn’t. The silence was deafening as Patrick made his way into his bedroom, where his guitar was propped up against the far wall, collecting more dust than he had ever allowed. He picked it up. The wood was sturdy under his hands. He strummed a gentle chord, looked over at his bed and put the guitar back down.

He knew what song he was going to play, could play the song in his sleep. Instead he turned on the tv, onto a hockey game that he had no interest in. It was halfway through the second quarter, at the beginning of the Bruins’ power play that he realized he left the peppermint mocha in the car. He didn’t move though, it didn’t taste good anyways.

At the open mic night, he played Dolly Parton’s  _ Hard Candy Christmas _ with a heavy heart. He barely made it through the song. The pit of despair that had settled into his chest was heavy and he was crying by the end of it. He left the cafe quickly and quietly in shame. He got in his car and drove and before he knew what he was doing, he was knocking on Rachel’s front door, apology in hand.

*

His first holiday season with David trickled in like the first winds of fall. He knew something was shifting, but he wasn’t sure what it was--it could’ve been the shrinking hours of daylight or the slow breezes that moved in much slower than normal. He didn’t know, but it was unsettling. Thanksgiving was uncharacteristically warm and he hadn’t realized Thanksgiving was there until David casually asked about his plans and invited him to the cafe for dinner with the Rose family. Then Halloween slid by and Patrick was handing out candy in a daze. There were Fall and Harvest Festivals that Patrick barely remembered, and now it was officially the Christmas season.

He had survived the first half of the holidays. The days had gone by without a hitch until the weight of Christmas hit him like a train. 

“We still on for dinner tonight?” David asked . His soft voice broke Patrick out of his trance. He followed the sound of David’s voice, and turned towards him, away from the storefront window.

“Of course,” Patrick replied. 

“I know we said pasta,” David started, and Patrick watched him shift and move closer and thank god he did. David moved in and Patrick felt his general uneasiness seep back out of his body. 

“Mhm,” Patrick hummed as he reached out for David.

“But, it’s very cold and ramen sounds like it would be a satisfying dinner.”

David skirted his hands over Patrick’s shoulders. It shouldn’t do to Patrick what it does, but Patrick shivered at the touch and pulled David in even closer. 

“Where’s the nearest ramen place?” Patrick asked. He hoped David answered quickly, because he needed to kiss him, seal the deal on his new, positive mood. 

“A little bit farther than Elmdale,” David whispered and Patrick tilted his chin and kissed him. David broke the kiss with a grin. “Is that a yes to the ramen?"

Patrick loved him. So much. So he just grinned and kissed David again, his heart bursting with love. He needed more, and the insatiable need to be closer to David was placated when his hands touched David’s bare skin under his sweater. Too soon, David pulled away and Patrick furrowed his eyebrows in response. 

“Okay, but I need you to give me an answer,” David whined. 

“Yes to ramen,” Patrick responded. 

The bell above the door rang, and it pained Patrick when David stepped out of the circle of his arms to help the customer. 

They closed the store as soon as the customer had one foot out the door, and before Patrick’s brain could catch up, he was in the car, driving them to dinner. David had officially deemed it seasonally appropriate for Christmas music. The ending harmony of Mariah Carey’s “O Holy Night” still lingered in his mind when the next song played and he heard it. He felt his body slowly tense with each pick of the guitar strings. 

It hit him harder than any song had the right to and he wanted to snap, to beg David to change the song, but David hummed along as Dolly began to sing and he knew he couldn’t ask for it. Not when David was swaying in his seat.

_ Maybe I’ll get a car, maybe I’ll drive so far that I’ll lose track.  _

The countryside flew by, the gravel crunched under his tires and he was  _ tired.  _ The rolodex of Christmases past in his mind began to flip and he struggled to hold up against the memories. It was too much and he felt his composure slipping through his fingers. 

He jumped when he felt a hand on his thigh. 

“Where’d you go?” David asked, voice so soft. 

“Nowhere,” Patrick breathed back, and David hummed in response. His hand was warm and heavy on Patrick, and Patrick worked on relaxing each of his muscles. “I’m right here.”

“Good.”

Patrick focused on driving and sent his quiet gratitude up once the final chords of the song rang through the car. There was a beat of silence, and before the next song could start, he pulled into the parking lot. 

*

When he dropped David off at the motel, David kissed him goodbye and when he pulled away, he held Patrick close, keeping their eyes locked. When David let go, he exited the car and walked around to Patrick’s door. David opened it and leaned down. 

“Can you get out of the car?” David asked. “I want to give you a hug.”

Patrick did as he was asked and when David wrapped his arms around Patrick, Patrick sighed into the hug and didn’t let go. As David smoothed his hands over his back, Patrick held on, and dug his fingertips deep into the muscles of David’s back. He held on and soaked in what he could. When he pulled away, David fixed him with that half smile that Patrick  _ adored.  _

“I love you,” Patrick declared, his heart skipped a beat as the other half of David’s lips quirked up and formed a complete grin.

“I love you,” David responded in return. He had come so far and Patrick was so, so proud. “Let me know when you get home.”

“Of course.”

*

Days passed and Patrick felt the fatigue settle into his bones. Time moved in slow motion and he dragged through his days. When he was alone, he spent most of his evenings upstairs, camped out in his bedroom. 

An exact week after ramen, Patrick spent most of the night staring at the ceiling and only slipped into sleep after he circled through multiple sleep podcasts. When his alarm went off, he slowly blinked awake, eyes back on the same spot on his ceiling, where the popcorn was more dense than the rest of the ceiling. 

He rolled over onto his side and grasped at the motivation that was bleeding out of him. He picked up his phone and scrolled lazily. He sighed as the phone rang while he burrowed back into his pillow.

David picked up on the last ring, his  _ ‘what?!’  _ was loud in Patrick’s ear. 

“Can you open the store?” He asked. David was quiet on the line.

“Yeah,” He stuttered out, his voice rough from sleep. 

“Thanks,” Patrick sighed in relief. “I’ll be in at some point.”

David’s ‘ _ Okay, Patrick’  _ echoed in Patrick’s mind as he pulled his blanket up and over his head. 

“Do you still want me to come over?” David asked that night after closing. He hopped onto the counter and pulled Patrick into the space between his legs.

“Of course,” Patrick breathed. His hands were on David’s knees and he felt so  _ secure  _ in David’s embrace. 

“Are you sure?” David raised an eyebrow at him and Patrick couldn’t resist, couldn’t hold back from kissing David. 

Kissing David had become a beacon of light and Patrick grasped onto it. He lifted his hands up to David’s cheek, desperate to feel David’s stubble on his palms. He felt drunk off the feelings of the moment and his feet felt heavy as David pulled him closer. 

“Is Ray home?” David asked when he broke the kiss, except he had wrapped his legs around Patrick’s waist and Patrick found it hard to focus on the conversation. 

“No,” Patrick shook his head as he played with the short hairs on the back of David’s neck. “He’s at his sister’s for the weekend. Something about going to his nephew’s winter pagent.”

David just smiled wide and slid off the desk. 

“Time for us to go!”

They moved quickly and made it back to Patrick’s before the first bits of snow fell.

“Can you put on some music?” Patrick asked as he hung up his coat. “I’m going to start on dinner.”

He pulled out the premade pizza dough and toppings he had bought for the night. He was gentle with the dough at first, but once David popped the cork on the nice bottle of red, he moved quickly. David was relaxing on the couch and all he wanted was to be done with dinner and tucked into his side. 

“Gentle.” David chided. Patrick jumped at David’s proximity.

“Thought you were in the living room?” 

“Had to make sure that the pizza had the right ratios of all the toppings,” David said. He leaned up against the counter next to Patrick. 

“Have I ever made you a bad pizza?” Patrick teased. 

“The first one was less than ideal,” David countered and he had a point. 

“Lately?”

David swayed and hip checked Patrick. 

“Okay, I wanted to be close to you,” David threw his hands up in the air in defeat. 

It never got old, teasing David, listening to him, being with him. David was learning how to be in love and Patrick felt beyond lucky to witness it. He held a pepperoni up to David’s lips and smiled as David leaned forward and ate it, his lips soft against Patrick’s fingertips. He pressed the pad of his index finger against David and watched it move as David chewed. 

“You got the good pepperoni,” David commented after he swallowed. 

Patrick tilted his chin up. 

“I learned.” Patrick grabbed another pepperoni. 

“You did,” David agreed. 

Patrick kissed him, his hands full of ingredients, the taste of pepperoni and red wine were prevalent on David’s tongue--which, that combination had no right to be that good. He dropped the pepperoni and mushrooms onto the pizza and shifted to face David. 

Before he could sweep David up into his dirty hands, he heard that telltale melody. The sharp notes of a guitar haunted him and he broke off the kiss, stepping out of the warmth of David’s arms. 

“Can you skip this song?” Patrick asked as he spread out the rest of the ingredients. 

“Do you have something against Dolly?” David asked as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. It took the speakers a second to register the skip and when they did, Patrick was more grateful for Sammy Davis Jr than he thought he ever would be. “Cause if you do, we might have to break up.”

Patrick laughed a watery laugh and  _ fuck,  _ he was going to have to talk about it. They had been working on that, communicating more, being more present and making choices that would be better for them in the long run. 

“It just,” Patrick faltered. “It’s a really depressing song.”

The toppings were all arranged perfectly, so he forced himself to stop fidgeting and just face the moment. He sidestepped to the sink and worked the hand soap into his skin, the lather slippery in between his palms. 

“If you want to look at it that way,” David said and when Patrick turned around, towel wrapped around his hands, David’s shoulder was in a permanent shrug. 

“It might be my favorite Christmas song,” Patrick admitted. He dropped the towel back onto the counter. The oven beeped and Patrick moved to put the pizza in the oven. “I played it at an open mic night once. When I was really desperate to try to make things work with Rachel.”

He sat at the kitchen table, across from David, who pushed Patrick’s wine glass closer to him. Patrick took it gratefully, buying time with a long sip. 

“I’ve always had a hard time with the holidays. It’s like my mind fixates on all the joy other people are experiencing, and then I convince myself that I don’t deserve it, that I’ll never have it,” Patrick broke off. A heavy lump settled into his throat and he tried to cough around it. He felt pressure against his foot and he looked down through the glass top of the dining table to see David’s foot against his. “And now I’m so happy and I don’t want to jinx it. Again.”

“Patrick,” David whispered.

“I’m so scared,” Patrick’s voice cracked and he was so embarrassed. “It just keeps haunting me.”

“Come here,” David commanded as he pushed his seat back. He held his arms up and Patrick moved out of his seat and onto David’s lap. “Can I tell you why I like the song?”

Patrick just nodded, the lump in his throat still too thick to speak around.

“It makes me feel really hopeful,” David murmured and Patrick swooned at the softness of David’s voice. “She took her sadness and hardships and in the face of them, decided that she won’t let it bring her down. She’ll be just fine. She took her agency back and fought through it.”

Patrick fell into the hug, tears pricked his eyes and he sniffled as David squeezed him nice and tight. 

“If she can do it, I can do it,” David continued. “You can do it.”

“God, David,” Patrick exhaled. David pressed kiss after kiss into Patrick’s skin and oh, it felt good to know where he was meant to be. 

Maybe this Christmas would be different. 

Later that night, David fucked him nice and slow with smooth strokes. When he noticed the tears rolling down Patrick’s face, he paused, his slick body still against Patrick’s. 

“Patrick,” He breathed. 

“Keep going. Please, you’re making me feel so good,” Patrick begged, so David did. 

They came together, David moaning  _ ‘I love you’  _ into Patrick’s skin. 

“I’ve got you, honey,” David whispered into the still night. “I’ve got you and I love you.”

*

David had agreed to a holiday open mic night. Patrick had asked him so sweetly and David rolled his eyes at the request, but relented quickly once Patrick mentioned there would be another serenade. Patrick knew that the mini-cupcakes he promised to order was what really sealed the deal. 

He couldn’t go anywhere in town without people asking about it and giving him their RSVP and making a note that they wanted to sign up to perform. Even David made a comment about his hopes that they could move most of their Christmas items. Which should’ve been fine, should’ve been great.

“Have you decided on what song you’re going to perform tomorrow night?” David asked. He broke Patrick out of his train of thought and Patrick’s fingers stilled on his keyboard, where he had been pressing the arrow buttons as he watched the green square in Excel jump around. 

“Nope,” Patrick responded. He had been going back and forth between a few, but nothing stayed in his mind for longer than a few chords. 

“I hear Jingle Bells is a classic,” David said with a deep breath and a pained voice. Patrick looked up and marveled at the quirk of David’s lips and the golden menorah he held in his hands. “Maybe that rockin’ around the Christmas tree song?”

“Or the dreidel song?” Patrick countered. “Don’t want to erase that half of your identity.”

“Um, there are much better Chanukah songs,” David said as he placed the menorah down on the shelf next to him, straightening it before he moved to stand on the other side of the counter and placed his hand on Patrick’s forearm. “But you may want to learn one just in case my dad does want to celebrate this year. I can’t be certain that my mom won’t make you get up and play for us.”

“I’ll put it on my list,” Patrick agreed with a soft nod. “Gotta learn Rudolph first.”

“Mmkay,” David said, voice high pitched as he shook his head quickly. 

Patrick placed his free hand on David’s, enveloping it between his hand and arm. 

“Thank you, David,” Patrick dropped his voice, let it cascade between them and hoped that David knew what he meant. 

“Of course.”

David did. He knew what Patrick meant, he always did.

That night, Patrick dusted off his guitar for the first time since the seasons changed. He slung the strap over his shoulder and took it downstairs. He strummed a few chords as he wandered around the house, waiting for any trickle of motivation to hit, any song to come forward in his mind. 

He was in the kitchen when his fingers moved and he plucked at the strings and the melody was there, right beneath his fingertips, like an old friend welcoming him home. He hummed along, faltering once his fingers plucked the wrong string. He sighed, but started over and there it was. He worked his way through the song and suddenly it was Christmas of 2014 and he was standing on that stage in a coffee shop he had only been to once. 

_ Hey, maybe I’ll dye my hair, maybe I’ll move somewhere.  _

_ Maybe I’ll get a car, maybe I’ll drive so far that I’ll lose track.  _

_ Me, I’ll bounce right back. _

Patrick knew he was crying and that he sounded awful because of it, but when he finished the song, he circled back, his fingers never stopping and he played the song again. And again. His fingers burned from his lack of practice, but it didn’t stop him from playing the song a 5th time. 

_ Oh, I’ll be fine.  _

He stopped after the 7th time with the words ‘ _ i’ll be fine’  _ vibrating in his skull. The crunch of pavement under tires was soft through the thick walls, but he heard it loud and clear. He had gotten accustomed to the sound after he and David started dating and privacy was hard to come by and limited in time when they had it. Patrick ran back upstairs, just barely avoiding Ray coming into the house. Once he got into bed, he called David, just to hear his voice. 

*

“Thank you everyone for coming tonight!” Patrick exclaimed. The audience cheered and he smiled bashfully down at the floor--so happy that everyone was there, celebrating the holidays. “Before we start, I just want to say happy holidays! No matter what you celebrate this season, I hope it’s a good one.”

He heard a small little gasp as he began to play. 

“This is a song that I’ve loved for years, but with a little help from a friend,” Patrick looked up and winked at David, who looked as overwhelmed as he did when Patrick played Simply The Best for him all those months ago. “I’ve learned to appreciate the message of hope woven into the song.”

He sang softly, trying to match Dolly’s tone. He let the ghosts of Christmas past fuel him, guide him through the first verse, and once he let himself feel the chorus, he realized it was there. He believed it. 

_ Me, I’ll be just fine and dandy.  _

_ Lord it’s like a hard candy Christmas. _

_ I’m barely getting through tomorrow, but still I won’t let, _

_ Sorrow bring me way down.  _

He’ll be just fine. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr [as samwhambam](https://samwhambam.tumblr.com/) ! Come yell at me about all things david and patrick!


End file.
